


Fireworks

by theelusiveflamingo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aerwin puts the Win in Aerwin, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:10:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theelusiveflamingo/pseuds/theelusiveflamingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tywin's not one to be sentimental, but this Valentine's Day, he wants to do something very special for Aerys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks

When had Tywin last been sentimental on Valentine’s Day?  He couldn’t remember.  Certainly not since Joanna.  Last year he had taken Aerys to a Braavosi restaurant tucked away in one of the many alleys of King’s Landing, a place where nubile youth dressed as bravos brought large spears of grilled meat directly to the table and cut off chunks to the diner’s liking with water dancers’ blades.  As the two of them dined out frequently, though, the evening did not feel particularly romantic, other than the added rush of a restaurant filled with weaponry.  (Certainly, Aerys had been more silent and flushed than usual at dinner, but that was really all right with Tywin; half the time the things Aerys said hardly made sense.)   Struck by some sentimentality straight from the gods, he wanted this year to be special.

It was simple to hire someone to set up a fireworks display, even simpler still to convince Hoster Tully to let him stage a private fireworks show in some Riverlands public land near the God’s Eye.  Oh, old Tully complained at first, to be sure, but Tywin knew all too well just how easily a check for 300,000 gold dragons could puncture even the biggest of _family, duty, honor_ windbags.  Tully quickly acquiesced, and the fireworks display was scheduled in no time.

Something strange was in the air tonight, Tywin thought as he steered his Brightroar 1000-Series LE onto the express lanes of the Kingsroad.  Already the murky orange glow of King’s Landing seemed to fade into the distance in the rearview mirror, and the only radio stations Tywin could pick up were from somewhere up North and that staticy one from Cape Wrath that only played sea shanties.  Tywin went with the Northern station.  The surprise hit “Got A Flat Near Moat Cailin and I Ain’t Got No Spare” was playing.  Aerys, having a strange predilection for these four-minute snippets of commercialized banal tragedy, hummed along.  He _did_ have a nice-sounding hum, Tywin remembered.  One could say that Targaryens were gifted with musical talent, while nearly all Lannisters were tone-deaf, and this assertion would be correct.

“Have you guessed where we’re going yet, or are you too busy with your nose in my book?”  Aerys had brought Tywin’s old book on dragon conquest that he’d been reading before Tywin came home into the car, and was angling it into the intermittent glare coming from the the side-mirrors to read.

“It’s interesting,” Aerys said, “certainly more interesting than a surprise trip to a mysterious destination.”  He didn’t look up from the book.  “What do you think I am, a child?”

“You certainly behave like one half the time,” Tywin said.  He removed a hand from the steering wheel and held Aerys’s chin in a practiced way that made his grip just a touch too rough to be construed as affectionate.  He jerked the chin up and to the left.  “Look at me.  Make conversation with me, if you can manage to string together two sentences that I can understand.  You can read it out loud to me tomorrow morning if you’d like.”

Aerys kept his nails slightly too long and filed them so they were pointed; at once, he dug them into Tywin’s wrist.  Those nails could break skin, and break skin they often did.  Tywin made sure to stay still.  Showing pain was for lesser sorts.  He let the piercing feeling flood into his hand and out through his fingers.  It meant nothing to him.  It was just a little pain.

“Oh, _look_ ,” Aerys cooed. “I made you bleed again.  Does it hurt?”

“No.”  Tywin kept a death grip on the steering wheel with his other hand as Aerys finally let go and began to lap at the marks he’d made.  His tongue traced gently, almost delicately, over the skin he’d broken.  It was a warm, soothing feeling, and one that never failed to send blood flowing down into Tywin’s most intimate places.  Joanna used to lick at him in a similar fashion, though her lips were softer.

“And they say vampires are just lore from Beyond the Wall,” Tywin mused.  He accelerated, swerving around an ancient Direwolf, at least 20 years old with the muffler dragging on the asphalt.  The driver seemed drunk.

Aerys mouthed his way up to Tywin’s fingers, his tongue leaving a trail, and took them between his lips one at a time.

“Been counting your money again at work?” he asked.  “I can taste it on you.”  Tywin felt sharp teeth graze his ring finger.  

“How exciting for you.”

“You’re filthy with the scent of money, Tywin.”  Tywin enjoyed the sound of Aerys talking with his mouth full.  “You’ll never be able to get clean.”

“A t least money is just money,” Tywin said.  “I shudder to think of what your hands get up to at work.”  Tywin still wasn’t certain what Aerys did to make the considerable salary he took home, but it sure as _sin_ wasn’t something nobly beneath the law like creative financial management.  It possibly involved hit men (Aerys spoke the Braavosi dialect passably), or the drug trade (judging from the number of visitors from Sisterton and the Stepstones that Aerys entertained).  Better for someone as prominent as Tywin not to know.

Aerys slid Tywin’s fingers from his mouth, closed the book in his lap, and peered out the window.  “North?” he said as they passed by a sign for ROUTE 5—FERRY TO DRIFTMARK.   “Are we headed to the Dreadfort?  My colleagues from Sisterton say Roose’s gatherings are particularly _of note_ this year, and he’s been wondering why you’re ignoring his phone calls.”

“ _Of note_ means they’re happening in his sex dungeon,” Tywin sighed.  “If it’s a sex dungeon you want, I’ll turn around at the next exit and we’ll go home.  There’s no need to waste the gas.”

“Well, _someone’s_ no fun, hmmm?”

“ _Fun_ is neither here nor there,” Tywin said.  “I just don’t share what’s mine.  You know that.”  _Even if what’s mine is a half-mad, possible criminal who may actually believe he’s made of dragon’s blood_ , Tywin added to himself.

“I don’t, either,” Aerys said.  “It was just a thought.”  He rolled down the window.  The air outside was smelling colder, crisper, fresher, the rank dampness of the swamp King’s Landing was built on just an unpleasant memory.  “Be serious, Tywin, where are we going?”

Tywin rolled his eyes and turned up the radio.  “It’s a _surprise,_ I said.  Let’s have some quiet now, shall we?”

Thank the gods Tywin did not believe in, Aerys agreed without a fuss.  He leaned back in the plush passenger seat with his eyes closed, taking Tywin’s damp fingers in his own, and seemed blessedly content to just exist there, fiddling with Tywin’s hand.  Tywin noted how the wind that tore in through the open window as he sped up the Brightroar to match the raised speed limit blew his and Aerys’s hair together.  Even in the dark he could see the pleasing match of silver-white and gold, and this made him smile.  They resembled currency, the two of them, and their vibrant eye colors evoked gemstones.  They were a good match, despite everything.

The Kingsroad express lane was almost empty by the time they reached the exit for the public park.  The temperature had dropped a fair number of degrees, making Tywin long for that Targaryen heat draped all over his body.  Soon, soon.   That old aurochs of a classic, “The Lonely Kingsroad Trucker,” came on the radio, matching the rhythm of the turn signal as Tywin pulled off the road.  Tywin could remember his father singing it to him—

_It’s colder than a lord with no First Night to warm him_

_As I travel up the Kingsroad tonight._

_It’s many leagues to Winterfell, even more to reach the Wall_

_But I need to make it through til morning’s light._

_I ain’t got no company but the Old Gods and the—_

“Tywin?”  Aerys stopped short in the middle of the verse, his eyes wide open.  “Why’s it so dark? Where are we?”  He started patting himself down to grab a weapon that very obviously was not there.  “Is this it?  Are you trying to kill me?”

“Aerys, please.”  Tywin _could_ have killed him for all the babble coming out of his mouth.  “Well-placed trust is essential to happiness and well-being.  We discuss this often.  If you continue to distrust me--”

“It’s just.”  Aerys’s voice dropped to a whisper.  “I’m a _Targaryen_.  There are people who would pay a good ransom if I were to be kidnapped, and—”

“Who are these people?  I thought the only family you had left were a sister who hates you.  It doesn’t sound like she would be willing to pay a worthwhile ransom.”

Aerys remained uncharacteristically silent.

“Again, if I were in the mood to kill you, why would I drive up to the Riverlands to do it?  It’s a waste of gas.  It’s impractical.”  Aerys’s paranoia had the effect of a cold shower on Tywin’s arousal.  “It’s Valentine’s Day, and I am taking you somewhere private for a special surprise that I paid for with my head-earned cash that I stink of.”  He steeled himself inwardly for the private embarrassment this action would cause him, then pulled Aerys’s hand toward him and kissed the slender fingers roughly.  “Now _trust_ me.”

“But—”

“ _Trust,_ Aerys.  Trust.”

Tywin flicked on the brights and navigated the car into the deserted parking lot in front of them.  Other than the whir of cars passing by on the Kingsroad, there was nothing happening anywhere nearby.  Perfect.  He parked the car and put an end to the country music, then unbuckled his seatbelt and swung a limber leg into the passenger seat.

“Is this the surprise?”  Aerys said, his lips already running fevered all over Tywin’s neck and mouth.  “We’re going to spend tonight in your car like two boys who’ve just become men grown?”  Tywin bit into his lower lip and tasted the blood of the dragon.  It certainly tasted exactly like human blood.  “That seems _impractical_.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Tywin mumbled, quickly regaining his arousal as Aerys tangled a hand in his curls and pulled.  “Now get out of the car.”

“Oh, I’m not ready yet,” Aerys said. The impudence in his voice made Tywin want to punch him right in the mouth.  “I’m not done with you, with this.”

Tywin clawed the skinny Targaryen ass.  “ _Out_ , or you’ll spend the rest of your Valentine’s Day crying.”

Aerys tossed his hair back, hitting Tywin in the face with the straggly ends, and huffed out of the car.  Tywin used the distraction of his dramatic exit to quickly pop open the glove compartment and retrieve the pocket-size bottle of lubricant he’d slipped in there earlier that day.  He slid it into his pants pocket and climbed out of the Brightroar after Aerys, taking care to lock the doors.  One could never be too responsible.

“It’s cold,” Aerys complained, adjusting the thin black scarf he’d looped a few times around his neck. “I hope whatever you’re planning for us is warm.”

“Oh, it will be,” Tywin said.  “Patience, you.”  Another ass-clawing was all it took for Aerys to stop complaining.

After taking a blanket out of the trunk and sending a text to the pyrotechnician, Tywin looped his arm through Aerys’s and began walking him into the park.  This particular park was nothing more than a large, grassy field, perfect for a fireworks show.

“I don’t understand,” Aerys said as Tywin spread the blanket on the ground, sat down, and patted the spot next to him.  “What are we going to be doing here?”  It was too dark to see, but Tywin could easily imagine the glint in his violet eyes as he tried to figure it out.  _“Ohhh_ ,” he said, then, sprawling out on the blanket.  “I see.  A little bit of public indecency, Tywin?  I never thought it would happen.  You always said it was beneath you.”

“Mere public indecency I won’t do, no,” Tywin said.  “But _this_ —”

Things always seemed to work out perfectly for Tywin Lannister.  With impeccable timing, a ball of red fireworks zoomed up into the black sky and exploded in the air, red sparks dripping downward like the sky had started to bleed.  Now Tywin _could_ see Aerys’s face, and the poor man fully resembled a child.  His eyes glowed and his mouth dropped open in wonder as the red light glinted off his unnaturally pale skin.  He looked bathed in blood as well, a thought that sent a jolt of pleasure through Tywin’s cock.  He felt himself stiffening almost instantly.  Aerys wasn’t the only one suddenly young again.

“Oooooh,” Aerys whispered, so enthralled by the purple now spreading through the sky.

“You know when we go to see fireworks displays on Aegon’s High Hill?” Tywin said, running strands of silvery-blonde hair through his fingers as though they were bits of Myrish lace.  “You get yourself so worked up. It was strange to see this at first, but I found it endearing as well.”  He let his fingers spider-walk down Aerys’s back, feeling each muscle tense and shudder.  When he reached the dip of his tailbone, he trailed his fingers around, cupping a jutting hipbone as he did.  “You’re like the opposite of an animal, who scurries away from flames…”  The fireworks overhead were now swirls of pink and green buzzing furiously together.  Tywin let his hand finish its journey.  He squeezed that hard Targaryen cock gently, coaxing more dragon’s blood down into it.

“There’s so little I see that I don’t understand,” he continued. 

“ _I_ don’t understand one fucking word of this,” Aerys said, “but keep going.”

Tywin cleared his throat.  “ _As I was saying,_ there’s so little I see that I don’t understand,” He reached back to ease off his black dress shoes so they didn’t get scuffed.  He cupped Aerys’s cock with his other hand, pinching at it softly through his smooth black pants.  “And while I feel as though you and I understand each other on a fundamental level…your magnetism to fire fascinates me.  It’s so very against our nature.”

“We Targaryens aren’t like gods.  Or men.  We’re something different entirely,” Aerys said, though his voice was faint and hard to hear over the crackling red stars in the sky.

“Oh, really?” Tywin said.  He let go of the cock and rolled up his shirtsleeves.  “It seems that when it comes to sex you’re just as wanting as the next, Aerys.”  He gave him a little shove.  “Get on your knees.  If you face that way you can keep watching the fireworks.”

“Good,” Aerys said, sinking forward onto his elbows and getting to work on his pants.

While Aerys wiggled his pants down, exposing his pale ass to the hazy sky, Tywin let his own pants fall down around his knees and pulled out the lubricant.  A few squirts for the index and third fingers of his right hand, a generous amount for his cock.  With Aerys, pain was a tenuous subject.  Just enough and he loved it, too much and he’d be at your throat, certain you were trying to bring him harm.

“You relax and enjoy,” Tywin said.  Aerys’s neck was craned upwards, staring at the sky.  “I’ll just get you ready.”  He pumped his own cock with his left hand in short sharp jerks the way he liked, and slowly worked his index finger inside Aerys.  He was glad of the wet wipes he kept stored in the glove compartment.  It was good to be hygienic.

“Does that feel good?”  Tywin asked.  When he got no response, he pulled at some of Aerys’s split ends.  _I should have brought scissors,_ he thought.  Between the good plowing Tywin would soon administer and the fireworks show, he probably wouldn’t even notice a haircut.

“I said, does that feel good?”

“Yes,” Aerys breathed.  A spattering of blue sparks turned his hair, just for a second, the color of the sky on a perfect crisp fall day.

Tywin positioned his erection at Aerys’s entrance and slid in.  Aerys let out a groan.  As did Tywin, but Tywin’s was obscured by the latest cascade of balls of red light exploding above them.  He gathered Aerys’s hair into a ponytail with one hand and tugged, pulling his head back, and with the other hand jerked Aerys’s cock to the staccato of the pops and bangs and wails above them.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said in the space between the sound, and he meant it, gods be good, Tywin Lannister meant it.


End file.
